Serpentine Angel
by SugarIcing
Summary: In 19th Century London, you never know when something bad might happen. When something does happen, the League is called into play. But what if the thing they were sent after isn't the real threat after all? Please R&R!
1. Prologue

Author: Ariana-Marie/sugaricing  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Genre: Action/Adventure/Super-natural/Romance towards the seventh chapter  
  
Basis: Somewhere around the 19th century, perhaps 1880's. This is post-LXG.  
  
Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize is not mine.  
  
Notes: No one from London take the 'London is dark and dreary' crap seriously, please don't. I am posting this fic here because I am hoping to create a novel, and am using this for characterization purposes, and I wanted a League story. So why not this one? I can always change the actual novel, right?  
  
~~~  
  
Prologue  
  
In 19th century London, if you were different, if you weren't 'normal,' you would be disposed of immediately. If some 'thing' began to plague the streets, it was common knowledge that the threat would be gone in only several days. That was why everyone in London took the liberties of looking, and acting the same. Stuck up, snobbish, and almost everyone was of high status. Their logic was that, if everyone from London looked the same, anyone who wasn't from London would stick out like a sore thumb. If a foreigner were to enter London, they would find it a bleak and desolate place, musty and dank, cold and dreary. Rarely would you see someone meandering about the streets without purpose. Nothing was spontaneous is this city. Everyone had a purpose, whether it be good or bad. Carriages rolled down cobbled streets, taking those important and rich enough to afford one wherever they wished to go, no stops in between.  
  
But there was only one carriage this lonely night, a queer happening. It was taking the passenger to the largest public building in the entire west side of the city. The library. Everyone knew that the library had secret passageways, secret rooms below public areas. Maybe, because everyone was downstairs, there were no lights on the 'above-ground' floors. But no, there was a single, flickering candle by the window, putting the carriers face into sharp relief. His jaw was strong, graced with a light scrounge. His lips were set firmly in a line, and his eyes were cold and brown, like the murky waters of the river. His face bore a simple mask of indifference, but his eyes betrayed annoyance with the entire situation. His bowler hat covered long, wiry black locks of hair that looked unwashed and limp, covered with grease and bodily oils such as sweat. His brows were soon knitting themselves in frustration, and his lips turning downwards into a frown. His side-burns made his jaw line all the more prominent. He swung the great double doors open, and beckoned the passenger in with a large gloved hand. His brown overcoat blew around him, revealing a huge figure, burly frame, and large broad shoulders. His shirt was a dark yellow-beige; his vest was slack and undone. His pants were dark, and made of a rough material, obviously tough and hard to tear. Suspenders held them in place, and on his belt canisters of powder rested for his pistols strapped to either leg. The man's huge leather boots clunked harshly on the marble stairway outside the library, as he walked to the last bit of the overhang. As he waited for the passenger to come in, a growl formed in his throat, and his foot began a steady rhythm of taps. With a suppressed snarl, he took long confident strides toward the passenger. A few gruff words, and a weak attempt at humor, they were on their way inside.  
  
After quite a few staircases, the two men were now in what seemed to be a laboratory, with a large glass cylinder in the center of the room. But said cylinder was not empty. It was filled with a paralyzing liquid, and with a girl, around twenty. She floated, unsuspended. She was not moving and could be mistaken for a corpse if not for the machines to her left showing a slow heartbeat, and breathing regulations. The girl could have been quite beautiful, if not for the large black wings protruding from her back, and silver scaled body. None of her extremities were revealed, as her entire body was covered in those diamond hard scales. Her eyes were open, a greenish yellow color, serpentine with little black slits for pupils, and what would have been eyebrows had she been capable of any more hair then what was on her head. Aforementioned hair was long, thick, and platinum blonde. She had full purple lips, a prominent nose, and a well-toned body. The second man gaped. "So, this is the beast?" he whispered, in awe of the sight before him. The weak lights and blue liquid gave her a surreal and ethereal appearance. The first man nodded. "Yes, Mr. Holmes. She is almost complete."  
  
Mycroft Holmes nodded slowly, but then stopped when he noticed the glass cracking. "Or," he said, voice tight with fear, "She doesn't feel like waiting till we feel it safe to let her out."  
  
The fluids began to leak profusely through the ever-growing cracks, and now even the gruff bodyguard of a man was getting frightened. A hand shot up, and eyes flickered open and closed. A hard punch to the weakened glass, and it broke, shards flying helter-skelter across the room. In a fury, the beast screamed, not a normal scream, but the shriek of an eagle flying over a canyon, echoing in the un-carpeted room. Leaping from the broken shards, she raised her hand again, slowly, and gracefully as a swan. She stood, dripping, in a stance with her legs spread evenly apart for balance and control. The ceiling began to melt, cave in. Like many worms, little pieces of the ceiling scuttled away from a hole now large enough for a person to slip through, then drag a horse through behind. "Her telekinesis!" Holmes screamed. Running to the larger, stronger man, Holmes began to shout, "Logan! Protect me!" Logan did so, pulling Holmes out of the beast's view, and out of the line of fire.  
  
"The experiment 626 is free," he whispered, dreading what was going to happen next. 626 let out another one of her unearthly shrieks, and showed long needle-sharp fangs. Spreading her gigantic wings, she flew through the gargantuan hole in the ceiling, large enough for two elephants to fit through simultaneously. But only just big enough for her.  
  
"It has begun." 


	2. Chapter Two

NOTES: Yeah, 626 is Stitch's #. But, also, 626, or six and two other sixes. Which is relevant because 666 is the devil's #. And six and two other sixes is 666. Did you get it? If not.um.it's only a little pun. That's all. Completely irrelevant to the storyline. ~ Chapter Two  
  
I know I'm not normal. Silver scales, yellow snake-eyes, huge black wings that spread from my back to an expanse of sixteen feet. They didn't need to rub it in. No, they didn't. The screams...the mobs...the army, even. I've even heard rumors that the Queen has recruited the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen to capture me. And reduce the oncoming 'hysteria' that I was causing. No one would really care that much about me. I'm just another scare. Most say I'm a hoax, and look at me disrespectfully because I can't wear clothes comfortably. They rub my scales the wrong way. So I don't wear anything. It's not like it matters. It only looks like I'm wearing a very skin-tight costume. And I've never actually killed anyone. I could not, cannot do that. How could I? The darker, more animalistic side of my mind tells me compassion is weakness. That state of mind was created by living on the streets, looking for food, scrounging up even bones to gnaw on and make my teeth cleaner and sharper. My smile is that of a monster. Malicious, filled with evil intent. I can't make it look any different. My face has been marred by the passing year of neglect and horror. Only when I am hungry enough do I stoop to the level of killing. And I cook my food. I don't eat it raw, like some animal from the woods that do not exist here in London.  
  
Ah, the alleys and side-streets of London. Those places. You fear to go into those dark passages, for you might not come out. I sound pessimistic, but more then once, I have saved people, mostly young women, from unspeakable fates. And was stared at like some common python at a zoo. But this time, the python had gotten out of it's glass cage, its prison. Now it was free. And there was no stopping this serpent. I help, and get screams and alarmed gazes as my rewards. One time, a little girl said softly, as I cowered, trying to sink into a wall as men beat me senseless, "Mommy, stop the men from beating the pretty angel. See? She's got wings!" Her mother looked startled, and tried to drag her away. I had turned my gaze upon the little girl, pleading. That day remains in my mind, as fresh as blood from a newly created wound. The girl had tugged her hand free, and ran up to the men shouting, "Just because she's a different kind of angel doesn't mean you can hurt her! Stop! Or I'll get my daddy!" The men stopped, looking ashamed, as I whimpered, and began to cry. But shame was not enough for them to push the little girl out of the way and continue with their beating. I screamed this time, crying out for help. One kicked me harshly in the stomach. I had no breath. Before I lost it completely, I gasped out, "Help me." The little girl began to cry, kick and scream as her mother tried to drag her away. Soon, a crowd had gathered. They protested, and the men relented, finally. I looked to the little girl, and smiled softly. That had been the first time in my life I had smiled truly, without sadness and pain. It was a somber smile, one I demonstrated only for those who wished to see it. She had smiled back, and touched my face. "Hello pretty angel," she said, giggling when I sneezed. I was cold! What can I say? "I don't think you're ugly. Go fly away, and get away from all the mean people." The mother was hanging back, flitting around like a hummingbird over it's favorite flower, nervous that any other creature may harm it. I had chuckled softly, and thanked her. She only shook her head. I had pulled a feather from my wing, and handed it to her. "So you can remember the lonely angel," I whispered, before standing and spreading my wings. She had gasped, as did all the other people. Flapping them twice, I was twenty feet in the air. I waved to her, and she waved back, calling out, "Goodbye! Goodbye Fallen Angel!" It was all over the headlines. 'Fallen Angel Visits London' and 'New Threat? Maybe Not.' Those headlines promised a better fortune. I was amazed, from only being out of that dreaded cylinder for a year, I had already gotten onto the front page fifteen times. I counted.  
  
Now, I walk the streets of London, in the twilight. The coming night is freedom calling, taunting me with it's entirety. I can never have it all. The night may be a release, but I still had to lurk in the quiet shadows, afraid of what could walk out and harm me. Yes, even I feared things. Even things as small as spiders went. I did not fear spiders entirely, but still, one small bite from one had left me in a horrible fever, wracking shivers, hacking coughs, and no one to care for me. I could also communicate with snakes, the creatures I reminded myself of. I had known from the beginning that it was not just my surface appearance that was different, I also could read people's minds when I put myself into a subconscious state of mind. I still could not do so while walking, or talking. And my telekinesis was moving along nicely. I could now move entire cars with a single glance. Yes, I would be suffering from head-pains later, but the thrill of the moment was too much to miss. When I moved something with my mind, it gave me a tingling feeling from my head to my toes, to the very tips of my wings. It was a pleasant feeling, one I loved to experience. And it tickled. I could not be tickled, though, from the outside, because of my scales. But I loved the sensation! And the itchiness that lasted for hours after...it was too much to pass up. Walking streets were dangerous, especially at night, but I still did it. And I still nag at myself, telling myself so many things could have been avoided by simple lack of idiocy I seemed to have a lot of. Though, some things my mind cheers me for. The things that led to adventures were meant to happen. They probably would have happened even if I tried to run away from them. One of these nights, this night, the thing that took place, was meant to happen.  
  
I trudged down the longest alley in London, the one that stank the least. More room, and less congestion. I was weary, having not eaten in several days. I was used to it, yes, but I had run away from the police shortly after being shot in my wing. Since my wings had more nerve endings, it hurt twice as much. Sitting on a can of trash, I had removed the bullet, trying not to scream. After two more minutes, the wound began to stitch up. Slowly, but surely. I had smiled, and praised whatever gods listened to prayers from disgusting beasts such as myself. So I was weary, this night. No food, and weak from the accelerated healing. I tried my hardest to stay out of the streetlamps, the ones that stayed lit, even with the blowing wind, harsh gales and squalls that lasted no longer then a few minutes each. But this night, this special night, I risked stepping into the light. And that was my biggest mistake. Although, looking back, as I said before, that was meant to happen, so it was no mistake of mine. I had stepped into the light, and I heard a small laugh. It was feminine, so I was not too worried. But when she stepped into the light across from me, I saw the face that had covered the headlines, albeit with other men, but still, she was the only female of that organization. She was from the League, the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.  
  
It was Wilhelmina Harker.  
  
Better known as Mina Harker, female member of the League, vampiress.  
  
And she was standing right in front of me. 


	3. Chapter Three

NOTES: Uh, yeah. Oh! A BIIIIIIIG thank you to all my reviewers. You don't know how much I appreciate those kinds of things. If you find anything wrong with my story, small mistakes and stuff like that, please tell me. And this chapter might not be too good, because I wanted to write it quickly, and I broke my stinking wrist slipping on some ice. My brother pushed me. Little bugger. AND I got myself a hairline fracture on my tailbone. Fun, right? Hah. And this took me SO long to update because my dad disabled the Internet! Gah! Not good.so that's why this one took a LITTLE longer then the first two. I told him I had schoolwork.which I did.but I did a little extra. ^-^  
  
~  
  
Experiment 626 found.  
  
Check.  
  
Experiment 626 captured.  
  
Uh, no check.  
  
Special Agent Tom Sawyer of the American Secret Service trotted down the empty alleyway in London ignoring the foul smells and waiting for his signal. He wasn't working for America today, though. He was working for the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. And he was glad. America just wasn't as fun any more. The signal.what was it again? Oh yes. Tom's signal was Hyde's roar. Which was quite loud, and could be heard miles away on a cold, quiet, empty night such as this. Tom had praised the weather as he stepped off the Nautilus, as it was clear and misty, easy for stealth. And it hadn't rained. Popping out of the alley, Tom looked left and right before heading out into the paved street, light boots making almost no noise on the concrete. He had made it to the other side of the street when he hit an invisible barrier, better known as Rodney Skinner.  
  
"Oi! Tom, watch where yer walkin'!" And with a few soft pats of bare feet on the street, soft curses because of the cold, and he was gone. Tom had only time to blink before he heard an enraged shriek. It sounded awfully bird-like. A grin spread like an infectious disease over his face. Someone had found her! Experiment 626.what a lousy name. Tom ran toward where he heard sounds of a scuffle. He turned a bend and-  
  
Mina and 626 were fighting. Mina twirled like a dervish, fast, knives outstretched. 626 was a blur herself, bending backwards to avoid the silver blades and tripping the vampiress so her wicked onslaught had to be paused. That seemed to be all the time the experiment needed. It raised a hand, and Mina flew into a wall, slumping slowly to the ground, sliding along the wet wall. She didn't get up, and blood seeped from a wound on her head. Tom roared in anger, and shot the beast in it's large, ebony wing. It screamed in agony, and faced him, swaying slightly on its scaled feet. He stepped back in fright. He had been told it was scaled and winged, but he had not expected it to be like.this. Its eyes were pleading with him, asking him why he had shot her. They seemed to say, 'I was only protecting myself.' Hit by a rush of guilt, Tom started forward, but stopped in mid-step. What if she was tricking him? Serpents were sly, and she was no exception to that rule. Frowning, he shifted from foot to foot, gun trained uncertainly on a shining head, with flowing locks of silver. 626 took a small, feeble step toward him, one wing hanging motionless. Then he saw it flash through her eyes. It was fast, almost unrecognizable. But she was afraid of him. She was afraid of him. Why him? But he had no time to ponder upon this, as Hyde leapt through the black darkness of the mist so thick you could push it out of your way. Hyde roared, and tackled her, jumping upon her like a rabid animal. She screamed again as he puched her in the face. Tom watched her beating, feeling guiltier by the second. Hyde sat on her, and punched her in the gut, watching as she gasped, eyes wide, staring into nothingness. They fluttered shut, softly, then her head slumped to the side. Hyde grinned, and got off of the limp body that lay in the middle of the dark, wet, cobbled side-street. Tom slowly approached, and nudged the body with the toe of his boat. She jerked and screamed again. Tom nearly jumped three feet in the air, and back flipped away from the now awake thing. Straightening up slowly, he heard a voice in his head.  
  
Why do you hurt me?  
  
Tom blinked. Wait! There it was again! He stared at 626, who's eyes were wide, and focused on him.  
  
Help me.  
  
She was sending him messages via thought process. How? He stepped to her side, avoiding her huge, outstretched wing that was now bleeding profusely, and touched her scaled, swollen cheek. For some reason, he had expected it to be slimy. A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips, and she sent him one last message.  
  
Thank you.  
  
~  
  
Henry Jekyll sighed. The girl had been asleep for hours. She had healed herself, at an accelerated rate, and had managed to curl up in the center of the huge room that he himself had first seen on his tour of the Nautilus. The white room where Hyde had been chained to the wall in several places. She was chained as well, but still slept on the hard ground. Hyde chuckled in his head.  
  
She's used to it. You know? She's a monster, like us. Let me out, Henry, and I'll show her what we can do.  
  
Jekyll shook his head, and asked Hyde politely to shut his mouth, and not to talk again until Jekyll found it time to set him free. Pushing his chestnut hair out of his brown eyes, he sighed again, trudging toward 626 for further analysis. He reached and hand down and-  
  
Her eyes snapped open. At the sight of an unfamiliar face, close to hers, she screamed, and lashed out at him, scrambling away. Jekyll had managed to avoid serious injury, but he still had gained a small scratch across his abdomen. Her eyes were wide, shifty, she looked like a cornered dog, scared out of its mind, with nowhere to go. Nowhere to turn. Jekyll heard a chuckle, and this time it wasn't Hyde. It was Skinner, the Invisible Man.  
  
"Oi, doc. What're you up to? Ooh." he laid his invisible eyes upon the girl. "She's a pretty one. Nice body...'Ey! Mate, what's with all those men with sharp pointy objects? Surely she can't be that dangerous," But he was cut short as 626 moaned in pain, knees buckling beneath her. Sawyer and Mina ran into the room, quickly followed by Nemo.  
  
"There were tremors rocking the entire ship!" Mina cried, and when she caught sight of 626, she sneered. "Is she up yet?"  
  
A growl and a snarl answered her question. But she was quickly silenced by what looked to be a harpoon, long stick and pointy dangerous ends in all, held by one of the twenty men surrounding her. Whimpering, she looked to Tom. Tom only shook his head, at a loss of what to do. Should he help her? He would be considered mutinous by the more pessimistic members of the crew, and he couldn't help but want to fit in. But there it was. The problem. She wanted to fit in as well, and he was denying her the freedom and companionship she craved so he himself would fit in with people like himself. There was no one out there like her. But it was Jekyll who spoke up.  
  
"You should not aim those spears at her, they only agitate her. I would know," He trailed off, leaving everyone to understand exactly what he meant. Nemo sighed.  
  
"Take those away from her, but stay at a suitable distance." 626 gave Nemo and Jekyll a thankful look. "What are you doing in London, 626, causing enough havoc to make the Queen worry?"  
  
The girl snickered, and shook her head. "Don't call me 626. I have a name. It's Angel. Rather ironic, don't you think?" Her voice was soft, silky, but rough and un-used all the same. She grinned again, baring her fangs. Some of the men holding spears stepped forward slightly. "Causing havoc? I thought journalists were over-reacting, but this is just too much." She laughed harshly. "I step into a street full of people, and you'd think I was the omen of a coming apocalypse. Everyone screams and runs, and the next morning, I'm in the paper. All I wanted to do was steal some bread,"  
  
Nemo looked shocked. "They told us you feasted on human flesh," Her eyes widened in shock.  
  
"Damn them! The only time I eat, not feast, on humans, is when I haven't eaten in a month and people are pestering me. Most of the time it's the drunkards who are always drunk. They go first. And believe me, I'd prefer a salad with a medium raw steak, with a slice of buttered bread. And the vinaigrette sauce on the steak? Very good. You must try it sometime." Again, everyone looked at her like she was crazy. She scoffed. "I'm civilized! I swear! I can read, I can write, I'm actually a poet at heart. I've read Shakespeare, for heaven's sake! Why does everyone think since I look different, I must act like a total heathen and barbarian? I don't run around drunk all the time, I don't prey upon the innocent, I don't do things that 'normal' people do! I swear it! Everyone's just Very prejudice."  
  
Nemo coughed politely. "Are you done with your little rant, Angel? We need you to tell us your story."  
  
Angel blanched. "You see, the problem there, is that they brainwashed me. I don't remember a thing about my past. All I remember is screaming, and being knocked unconscious. I then woke up when I was about to be placed in a huge tank. So don't ask me, ask those who actually KNOW." Everyone was shocked. They had thought.They had been wrong about her, then. Skinner stepped forward.  
  
"I'm surprised she doesn't 'ave men at 'er every whim! She's an attractive one, she is." Mina scoffed, insulted.  
  
"Skinner, you find paintings attractive, thank you." But Angel seemed to take Mina's comment to heart.  
  
"You are lying, Skinner. You know I'm not attractive. Sorry, it won't work. I'm as ugly as they get. Scales? Wings? Snake eyes? I'm probably more ugly then a real snake." Sawyer began to shake his head, and Jekyll frowned.  
  
"You are prejudice against yourself, as well, Angel. You are very attractive. And you know it."  
  
Angel looked guiltily at her feet. "Well, I wouldn't know much, since mud reflections don't get you far in the reflection department. And I'm not. And no one is telling me different." Everyone shook their heads at her stubbornness, but did not say anything more on the subject. Tom, himself, was shocked. She wasn't ugly! She wasn't beautiful, she wasn't like, Mina, perhaps, but she was attractive all the same. She had a beautiful body, and some men considered outstanding eyes a turn-on. Hers weren't outstanding, they were mystical, beautiful, eerie, haunting, and interesting all at the same time. The yellowish-greenish color, instead of whites and an iris, and slits for pupils instead of the little black circles that most humans had. The scales were iridescent, reflecting everything back onto the room's walls. And because of all the lights, she shone. Her wings were just amazing, their length and width, just humungous. So Tom was unable to find a problem with her. Where was it? Why was being different so bad? But again, he had his answer. He seemed to be contradicted himself a lot today.Oh yeah, answer. She had been told her entire life that she was different, and that different was bad. Tom knew that he would think like her if he had been shunned his entire life because of his authenticity.  
  
All she needed was a chance. And he had an idea.he wasn't sure if it would cost him his life or not, but a girl like her needed a chance. And Mina needed a friend. Another woman. Mina.Oh no, Sawyer. No need to go off and daydream now. Mina considers you a friend. I think, he wondered. But no, back to the task at hand.  
  
"Nemo, Mina, Jekyll, Skinner, I think I have an idea. She should join the League."  
  
~  
  
A/N: YAY!! MY LONGEST CHAPTER!!  
  
By the ways, She's not a Mary-Sue, and Sawyer still likes Mina. Skinner is just lusting after her like he does EVERY other female, and Jekyll thinks of her as an equal. I'm not even going into Nemo. Uh uh. NO WAY. So PLEASE review, people!!!! PLEASEY PLEASEY PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
(  
  
Please?  
  
~*~*~*~Icing :P~*~*~*~ 


	4. The Very Much Dreaded Authors Note

Hiya all my peoples!  
  
This is not going to bode very well with those of you who liked my fics, but they're being put on hold until sometime in March. I seriously am overwhelmed. I have writers block, and no time. If I did post, it would probably be more horrible then usual. I'm sorry, but I can't do this. Uh uh. As I have told Clez, I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown. And an emotional one. I mean, watching Boromir die in 'Fellowship of the Ring' made me start to cry. I.....well...That's just pathetic. Doncha see what I mean? I hope ya'll do, because you won't be seeing me for a while.  
  
To all my loyal fans, thank you very, very much. I sincerely enjoy reviews and all your e-mails, but I will be taking a small break.  
  
Don't kill me?  
  
Now I feel so guilty.just leaving you guys hanging like that......  
  
Icing :P  
  
Why did I put a smiley-face? I'm not happy.but then, if I didn't.people would pity me.I DON'T WANT PITY!!  
  
Just less homework. 


	5. Chapter Four

HEEEEY!!! I'M BACK!!! ::Screams come from all directions:: Um...okay...::crickets chirp:: I'm sorry? ::More chirping:: Okay...er...I updated and now I think you all should love me cause I went with my word and did what I was supposed to do? ::Cheers::  
  
Yay!  
  
And thank you to all my faithful reviewers who gave me some support. And now, I'm totally over the homework problem! I'm overjoyed! Now, the fourth chapter of...dundundun...  
  
Serpentine Angel!!  
  
Chapter four  
  
Recently on 'Serpentine Angel':  
  
"Nemo, Mina, Jekyll, Skinner, I have an idea. She should join the League."  
  
Everyone stared in shock at Tom, who stood tall, staring down those who looked at him strangely. "I mean, come on, people. She's been neglected all her life, and who are we to lock her up? Remember Jekyll and Hyde? Now look at them. They are completely fine. And it's because we gave them a chance. A family. So why won't it work for Angel?" Tom defiantly crossed his arms over his chest, raising his chin in silent challenge. Mina was first to react.  
  
"Mr. Sawyer. You know very well she tried to kill me-"  
  
"After you tried to kill her."  
  
"And, Mr. Sawyer, all I'm trying to say is that maybe she isn't as safe as she seems."  
  
Sawyer blanched. "Did I say she was safe? Why would we recruit someone who's safe? What's the point?"  
  
Angel smiled, watching the bickering. She knew that Tom understood her, if only slightly. He was thinking outside of his little world, trying to step into her skin, being as she had no shoes. Her yellow eyes flickered to Jekyll, who was staring at a porthole. Angel cocked her head. "There is a voice in your head, Doctor. It's awfully loud. Is that Hyde?"  
  
Everyone stopped their argument and looked toward the girl whom the childish question came from. Then all eyes moved to Jekyll, who was staring at her in shock. "You...hear him?"  
  
A nod.  
  
Surprisingly, Jekyll broke out into a grin. "Do you know how you heal yourself?"  
  
Angel scrunched her nose, placing a long, shining finger to her chin. A voice broke out of the silence. "She 'as a dimple!" And it was true. Angel, the magnificent beast in front of them, had a small dimple in the middle of her chin, in which the tip of her finger found residence. Again, such a childish attribute was a reminder of the life she may have had before the experiment. Slowly, she met Jekyll's eyes, and shrugged.  
  
"No idea whatsoever. Really, I think it's the fact that my molecular structure is different then humans, leaving my body slightly less vulnerable. My body probably heals at an accelerated rate because...probably because my DNA structure as well as my molecular structure was tampered with, leaving me open to any surprise that even myself am not aware of." Everyone stared in shock at Angel, who had gone back to reclining on the floor. The chains clanked loudly, and Nemo spoke.  
  
"That was a truthful statement. She did not lie. Men, release her please." With murmured 'Yes Sir's', the Indian men ran forward with keys in hand to unlock the heavy chains binding her wrists and ankles. As soon as they were free, she leapt up and stretched, pointing a slender foot and bending backward. Her muscles rippled, and even Mina had to admit she was a sight to behold. Straightening up, she grinned at Nemo.  
  
"Are we above the water, sir?" She asked politely, bowing her head to show his authority.  
  
Nemo smiled. "Yes, we are."  
  
Jekyll stepped forward. "I would love to see you fly, maybe find out more about your wings. Maybe I could figure out how they did it. How they transformed you..." He trailed off, eyes glinting with the promise of new discoveries in the world of science.  
  
Angel smiled as kindly as she could muster, a smile that turned out looking like a cross between a smirk and a half-smile. "Then I will fly for you, Doctor. Oh, and Mr. Sawyer?" Tom looked up from his musing, or his blank staring at the wall, whichever you prefer, and locked eyes with her. She gave him a coy smirk. "You aim well." Tom's cheeks flushed red, and Angel turned, ruffling her wings.  
  
Tom shook his head, trying to shake off the impending whisper of 'Innuendo...Innuendo...' The whole voice-in-his-head thing was quite disconcerting.  
  
~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Heck, that was horrible. And I probably made three million spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes too. But, I updated! ^-^  
  
That DOES count, right?  
  
Right?  
  
Icing :P 


	6. Chapter Five

Yay! After three-million years, I have updated. Finally...Well, while I have my inspiration and the writers block is momentarily banished, I'm going to write the rest of this story from Angel's POV and irregularly hop into Tom's mind for a little visit. But today is going to be all Angel.  
  
Angel: ^-^  
  
Don't get too happy.  
  
Y. Bakura: Hello mortal.  
  
Eep! Dude, you're from Yu-Gi-Oh. I know I was just reading some fics along that general direction, but you still don't pop up in a random story!!  
  
Y. Bakura: Well, I just wanted to say the disclaimer.  
  
Hey! My spell check wants to spell your name 'Bakery'! Sure disclaim away.  
  
Y. Bakura: Ariana does not own anything other then Angel and the big muscle man in the beginning. Oh yes. And the plot. She owns that. But not Tom.  
  
*Pout*  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Wow.  
  
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~ (Fun!)  
  
Rustling my wings in a contempt manner, I strode confidently to the railing of the deck. Oh, how I loved the ocean. The endless expanse of blue, like the endless expanse of mysteries and unknown things. But now was the time to forget all those things.  
  
It was time to fly.  
  
Flying was my joy, my passion. It helped me release all my feelings and fall into the oblivion of a place devoid of time or space. Without anyone to tell me what to do, only the wind to guide me, caressing my face and body. I had once childishly thought the wind to be my friend, my only friend. I had spoken to it often, when I was sad, or tired, or depressed. And it would touch my face and whisper soft nothings into my ears.  
  
Clambering onto the railing, I crouched, then leaped straight into the oncoming draft. Spreading my wings, all 16 feet of them, I banked to the left and out of the way of the coming ship. Looking back to the deck, there stood Jekyll taking notes. Tom was watching in awe, and Skinner lounged around doing nearly nothing.  
  
Pressing down with my wings, propelling myself upward, I felt the all-too- well known sensation of what seemed to be like cataracts sliding over my eyes, protecting them from the harsh winds and stinging cold. Snake eyes. They were mine to keep.  
  
With another thrust, I was a good 50 feet above the water. Swooping low, I pulled up and shot straight into the air. Upwards I flew, feeling my adrenaline rush beginning to flow through my veins like a poison, filling me with such an embodiment of joy I whooped to the wind. My friend.  
  
As I became nothing but a speck in the sky, I slowly evened myself out. Two thrusts of my wings, then I tilted myself downward. Nose tilted toward the water, I simply brought the feathered appendages to my back, folding them and pressing them to my back, and let myself fall. Faster and faster, the wind rushing past my face. I felt my eyes close, and I let my instincts guide me. The ever familiar nothingness swept upon me, my mind empty of all thoughts. My body was slackened, but molded by the wind into the streamlined shape of a silver-scaled torpedo.  
  
Faster and Faster.  
  
The air around me began to smell of the sea, and my eyes flew open. Staring at the blue water below me, I watched as small ripples were formed as I grew closer. Larger ripples.  
  
All out waves.  
  
An insane grin spread across my face, and I didn't stop. Soon, there was a small bowl created by the pressure I was creating from the speed I was flying. Satisfied, I pulled out of the dive with a small amount of effort, spreading my wings to their full length and leaning up. My breasts hit the water, tickling them, and I giggled at the new an interesting feeling.  
  
Glancing at my wings, a sudden question skidded to a halt in my mind. 'What does flying in water feel like?'  
  
I glanced down again at the giant pool of mystery. Taking a deep breath and not stopping to ponder upon the idea and loose the bravery and blunt stupidity I held, I dove. Not stopping when I reached the water, I brought my hands in front of my face and drew in a deep breath. With a small splash, I submerged. Keeping my wings to my body, I glanced around. The feeling of the cold water was amazing. I had always loved rain.  
  
But this.  
  
This was heaven. I now knew why the fish had never bothered to exit the paradise of water. My scales glinted in the water, and I smiled at the effect the sun made upon them through the water. I began to kick my feet, deciding that fish had fins and I didn't. I headed in the general direction of the boat. Bringing my head above water again, I took another deep breath and dove deeper. The water took on an aqua tone, and I leveled myself out. Bringing my arms out in front of me in a spearing motion, I decided to experiment. If moving my wings to my body when I made a dive sped me up, maybe making the same motion with my arms would do the same.  
  
I swiftly brought my hands to my sides, and watched in satisfaction as I sped forward a bit. I kicked my feet. Moved my hands. Kicked my feet. Soon I had a rhythm going, kick, arms, kick, arms. Combining the two ways of propulsion under water resulted in speedy movement, and I praised myself mentally.  
  
The side of the ship soon came into view, and my acute hearing picked up on Jekyll's ranting.  
  
"-and she just dives straight into the water! It's so cold, she'll get hypothermia! And who knows if she can even swim! It's preposterous! How can she even-"  
  
I quickly blocked him out, and surfaced quietly. Gripping tightly to the sides of the submarine, I clambered up onto the top quickly. I just have to love the snake stamina and scales. They work the same way snake's do, allowing me the ability to move without limbs. A gasp was heard, and Jekyll rushed to the edge of the little deck. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, and took notice that Tom rushed over just as quickly.  
  
Tightrope walking to the tip of the ship, I spread my wings out behind me, so if one was to look from the side they would see my entire wing while looking from the front only got you the top of it. I leisurely stretched, arching my back like a cat. The sun shone on me, drying my wings and glinting off of my scales. I glanced forlornly down into my newest friend, the ocean, and said softly, "Tomorrow, my friend."  
  
A smile drew across my lips.  
  
My friend had waved.  
  
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~  
  
A/N: Get it? WAVED?!! The ocean? Waves?  
  
Y. Bakura: Ra help you.  
  
*Screams* What are you doing here? The disclaimer's DONE!! Go. A. Way.  
  
Y. Bakura: But I love you.  
  
^-^ I know. Everyone does. Whoa...Yami B.? LOVES ME?!! THE BISHIE LOVES ME!!!!!  
  
Y. Bakura: So, can I stay?  
  
Yessir!  
  
Y. Bakura: *thinks* Sucker...  
  
*Daydreaming*  
  
Please review! And be nice about it, ya'll!  
  
Icing :P 


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